Mini War Short
by Necron warrior
Summary: A little war short I made, hope you like it!


Escape by jack baptie

I awoke to the sound of artillery bombarding the roof of the trenches and fumbled for my trusty rifle.

"Why couldn't the Germans leave us in peace for one lousy night?" I mumbled to myself as I hoisted the rifle onto my shoulder and ascended the ladder that led into the underground pit I called home in this stupid fight. As soon as I reached the top of the ladder the artillery stopped suddenly as if it was waiting for me. I slammed my back hard against the trench wall. This was very strange. Normally the Germans would have shelled us for a lot longer but the sudden stop in shells must either mean that they were low on munitions or that troops were going to storm us. I guessed the latter. I prepared myself by fixing a knife onto the end of my rifle and covering myself in the mud that was surrounding me for camouflage.

I noticed across from my position was Sergeant Philips, face down in the mud with a piece of shrapnel embedded in the back of his skull. That was good news, if you got past the fact that a soldier was dead. Since I was highest ranking officer here I could order the "cannon fodder" around now. Hey don't judge me when you're in war you have to try and look on the good side of every situation but even this good side didn't hold much prosperity. The only other soldier who appeared to be around was "Pickles" Brown, the _only_ person in the whole regiment to throw up at the sight of blood yep there's one in every army. He got this call card as he reminded everyone of a pickle when he was about to upchuck. If I remember correctly he was a butcher's son before he got conscripted. That explains a lot. All of a sudden the Germans were upon us and all hell broke loose.

As the Germans leapt over the wall like crazed zealots I speared through the back of one in mid-jump from my vantage point and shot another through the still thrashing body of his dead comrade. His head exploded. As I removed the now limp German's body from my bayonet another rounded the corner of the trench and shot through my leg. I blacked out with pain.

I awoke to find the bullet in my leg had been removed and clumsily bandaged up. I was sat on a bench in what seemed to be a cellar of some kind with a piece on glass nailed to the wall to serve as a mirror. I wandered over to the mirror to check myself and found that my moustache had been shaved off. Damn Germans. I also checked my pocket for my picture. It was ripped in half. It used to contain me and 'my gal back home' but now it was just me. The Germans had really gone all out on demoralizing me. I felt tears well up in my eyes. It was the only thing I had that kept me going through this war and now I couldn't even remember what she looked like. I bit back the tears and kept looking around the room and I noticed a tray next to the door with three plates of food on it. Three? I looked round and noticed I had company. It was Pickles. He must have been captured as well, and he seemed to have lasted longer than me. I couldn't remember there being a grenade blast, but there must have been one. Pickles was the living evidence. He had lost both of his legs and the nubs had, like me, been clumsily bandaged up. He groaned in his sleep and I feared that when he woke up he might die of shock. I also noticed the third person who was sharing our living quarters. He was a heavily built man, bald, and he had an eagle carved onto his forehead. I automatically assumed he was the enemy and lunged at him, hoping to do what I had no idea, but he punched me in mid-air and winded me. I had a feeling I shouldn't be messing with him.

I concluded he was a general and realized my foolishness

"What's your name?" he asked me.

"Private John Reddington 13th Battalions" I answered immediately

"If you were wondering about the eagle" he said pointing to it, as if reading my mind, "it was those bloody Germans who carved it onto me."

Well that was my question answered.

"Do you know what this place is?" I asked

"Some sort of German POW camp."

I should have worked that out. I cursed myself for not knowing.

"Have you been here long?" I questioned

"I'm as new as you."

Outside I could hear Germans talking; I had intercepted enough messages to get a rough grasp of their language.

"The prisoners are ready for interrogation?"

"Except one sir the one with the missing legs."

"Good, prepare them to be interrogated."

The door then opened and the third person and I were taken out and dragged along a corridor to a small dark room I mentally noted that the door at the end of the corridor had a green picture of a man running into a door above it and I knew it could be used as an escape route.

Inside the room we were thrust onto metal tables and strapped down. I looked over to my roommate and saw he was shivering, I saw I was shivering also and my mind conjured up many gruesome sights that could be performed on me, and I waved them away with the thought of my Michelle and how happy she would be when I got back from this pointless war. Another German walked into the room and at the wave of his hand the rest left and he opened a briefcase he had brought in with him which contained a pair of calipers, and that was all I saw as he was looking into the briefcase himself. He stared down at us and sighed, cleared his throat and spoke to us in very rusty English.

"Do you know of plans to attack our naval base?"

"No" we chorused

" They all say that at the start" He pulled out a potato peeler "but when I use these they start to know of plans, When I get to this" he pulled out an ice pick " they confess everything to me, so, why don't we skip the instruments and go straight to the truth telling ok?"

At that moment I truly wanted to tell him, but my gut instinct of not telling the enemy secrets that was forced into me in my childhood took effect as my mouth seemed sealed shut.

The horrors that took place in that small dark room I will not describe, but will inform you that my roommate did not survive.

After the "interrogation" was complete I was thrown back into my cell where Pickles was still asleep. I couldn't move. My face was tinted red with blood and I just wanted to fall asleep. But I knew I couldn't, I couldn't let another day like that pass, so I gathered all my remaining strength and pushed Pickles off the bench. I still feel bad for what I did there, but it was needed. Pickles woke up and started screaming at the immense pain that overtook his nervous system. He threw up at the sight of himself. The door swung open to allow doctors to stabilize his position so he could submit interrogation. It was at this moment I saw my chance and I ran out into the hallway and staggered towards the fire escape. I heard the fire bell go and smiled to myself, this was the perfect distraction and I limped in what I suspected was westerly direction. I had guessed I was in Germany so France was my closest ally.

I was found in the French-German town of Strasburg and taken to the nearest hospital where I recovered, was debriefed and was sent back out into the field.

The events of that day have never left my memory to this very day. The place I escaped from was never found.


End file.
